We were in the corner of the warehouse, as far from Drew as they could get me. The only thing in my line of sight, however, was Drew and those damn chains. The scene held my full attention until it was seared into my brain, the logical part of my mind kicking in and dampening the fear, giving me something to focus on. To think I could have any kind of escape whatsoever was a ridiculous notion, but giving up hope was almost as bad taking my own life.
The man carrying me stopped abruptly, the scuffing of his boots echoing from the corner before he dropped me to the floor, eliciting another cry of pain from me as I landed on one shoulder, forcing the plastic that circled my wrists to bite deeper into the flesh.
“Don’t think about running. We’ll kill the motherfucker.” The point was reiterated with a kick to my stomach, which sent my body curling inward to protect itself. I gasped for breath, my forehead pressing against the dirt and broken glasslittering the concrete as my body slid towards a full-blown panic attack.
Lifting my head without thinking, my body twisted, even as the fire in my wrists and shoulder argued back. There was a voice deep in the shadowy recesses of my soul that screamed I would be okay as long as I could see Drew, that if he was in my line of sight, there was a chance I could breathe and maybe even survive what was happening.
I barely glanced his way when a booted foot came down heavily on the side of my head and pushed it into the broken shards of glass and concrete dust below me. It was done with so much pressure, flashes of light started to invade my vision, and the ringing in my ears deafened me in the same rhythm as my galloping heartbeat. My tears came fast and hard as the reprieve of darkness closed in around me and began blotting out the pain.
“Enough. We need her, asshole.”
The pressure was gone, and all too soon my thoughts cleared enough to trigger some kind of familiarity to the sound—a sound that only made the fear wrap itself around me and squeeze until my teeth rattled together like bones in a bag.
Then Chester Cortez stepped out of the shadows.
Something in his hand caught the light as he twisted his wrist. It had my sole focus as the shape identified itself and made the bile rise in my throat. Once again, my reaction was audible to everyone else but me. Cortez’s maniacal laughter echoed around the empty space and reverberated from everything it touched. I wanted to close my eyes and hide, to pretend it wasn’t happening, but the fear of what he would do if I did made me keep them on him and every step he took toward me.
“Hey, little maid,” Cortez purred. He tugged on the legs of his jeans before crouching down in front of me, the chains on his belt dragging along the concrete floor, making the scene even more malevolent than it already was. “You ready to see how a real man fights his battles?”
“Fuck you,” I whispered, negating the insult altogether.
“All in good time. First,” he said, digging his fingers into my hair and scraping them along my scalp. He tugged roughly, forcing my body to follow until I was on my knees, panting from the pain. “I need you to watch this, and when the time comes…” He leaned in. “You’re gonna be my leverage.”
“I’m not going to do shit for you.”
He bent my head to the side, using my hair to position me before he licked up my cheek and pressed his mouth against my ear. “You’re already doing it. Every breath you take means that bitch Hound is in my pocket.”
“I could always change that,” I growled back, the fear inside me making my voice less than convincing. I was a rat in a maze and he knew it. The bastard could smell my terror and he was taking delight in rolling around in it.
“I’m going to enjoy watching you both bleed.” Cortez laughed, slapping my cheek before gripping my chin painfully tight. “But right now, me and your boy gotta talk.”
He pushed up to his feet and started laughing that twisted sound again as he released my hair, his hand slapping the chest of the guy standing by me as he strutted back toward Drew. He stepped into his limp body brutally, his fist clenched before it buried itself in Drew’s ribs. “Wake up, motherfucker. Nap time’s over.”
Drew didn’t move of his own volition. His body swung with the chains, the rattle of them echoing as his head floppedto the other side and hung limply. He barely rocked from side to side as the blood dripped from his chin and down to the patches of white shirt left on his body. I wanted to screamstop. I wanted to get to my feet and plant myself between Drew and Cortez, but I knew the moment I tried, I would be thrown around by the jailer that had been forced to stand over me.
“Come on, Tucker,” Cortez growled, the tip of his knife pressing against Drew’s outstretched shoulder. The small welling of red had one of my legs pulling up under me, but I was forced back down, the shards of glass slicing the skin on my knees as the guy pressed down with his body weight. “I ain’t got all night for this shit.”
Rage and fear created a ball in the thick of my gut as I watched Cortez slice Drew’s skin and slap him in a bid to rouse him from unconsciousness. I shifted under the weight of the guard dog, my body attempting escape, only to be forced into a spine aching hold that made sure my eyes were on the scene playing out. Cortez wasn’t playing games with us. He was out for blood and he was taking it in every small way he could. It was only when Drew finally started showing signs of life that I felt the first real breath fill my lungs.
He was alive.
For how long, I wasn’t sure.
His head swung slowly from side to side like it weighed too much for his neck, and his chest expanded with the air he dragged into his lungs. Cortez lost whatever patience he seemed to have. In the same way as he’d done with me, he fisted his hand in Drew’s hair and pulled it back, his other hand gripping Drew’s jaw and squeezing violently.
“You’re not gonna want to miss this, Tucker. Wake thefuck up.” He slapped him across the face hard, and though he wasn’t completely coherent, Drew cracked one eye open and curled his lip in disgust before dropping out again.
Releasing Drew’s hair and keeping his head upright with the grip on his jaw, Cortez used his index and thumb to pry Drew’s eye open. “Have it your way, asshole. I’ll go kill your girl right now…”
With a twitch of his head, the man next to me moved his hand to the back of my neck and pressed me forward, his knee planting itself in my back to hold me still. I’d had no idea what he was planning on doing, but I put up a fight anyway, struggling against his grip as Cortez slapped Drew’s cheeks.
“Wakey, wakey, Drew. We’re gonna make your girl sing.”
Then time felt like it stopped altogether.
For a single breath there was nothing but the smell of earth and grease—the only sound was the crunch of glass under foot of the man who had complete control of my body. I could almost count the seconds… until it was all stripped away.
The pain was immediate, raw, and very real. The crack of bone as the man above me snapped my finger was drowned out by a scream I couldn’t have held in if I’d tried. It was piercing as the white hot flames of pain ran from the break, all the way up my arm, exploding in my chest until a sob cut everything off and I fell face down toward the concrete.
